Sleeping Lessons
by SaintAugustana
Summary: A fluffy little one-shot. Eisley has trouble sleeping, and Carlisle knows why.


**Sleeping Lessons**

Twilight Fanfiction

July 7, 2009

_A fluffy little one-shot. Eisley has trouble sleeping._

Eisley shifted uncomfortably in her sheets and rolled over, ignoring the unpleasant heat in her right ear, brought up by spending too long with it pressed into the pillow. The sheets crumpled softly beneath the technicolor afghan. Outside the glass-paned French doors of her bedroom, trees whispered quietly, branches pattering against each other in the wind.

It was bad enough that she still needed sleep to function, but her vampire senses kept her awake, finely-tuned ears pricking at each minute sound, including those the wide-awake-and-happy-about-it Cullens made as they moved around the house in typical nighttime routine. Eisley scowled as Rosalie flipped through channels on the TV, and Esme declared victory against Jasper in a chess war.

She glanced murderously at the clock. _2:17 a.m._

She'd been pretending to sleep since Carlisle sent her to bed at 9:30, nearly five hours earlier.

It didn't help that vampires seemed to measure time in seconds, little ticks of the thinnest hand that dragged on and on and on... Eisley rebelled against the need to sleep. It wasn't that she needed a full nine hours every night (only when she exerted herself too much mentally), but that she needed to sleep at _all – _that's what set her off balance about it.

Much like a stubborn child, she refused to sleep, tired though she was.

She kept her breathing slow and easy, knowing Carlisle and Esme were listening, checking to see if she tried to get out of bed or escape through the doors in her room for a hunt, or any excuse to avoid the inevitable.

"In theory," Carlisle had discussed with Esme, "if she doesn't sleep, she won't be able to use her ability, and the deprivation will begin to wear on her natural energy."

Eisley rolled her eyes, scoffing, and changed her position again, lying again on her right side, facing the door that led to the hallway. She yawned deeply, trying to ignore the possibility that _more _than just sleep deprivation was wearing on her 'natural energy.' Many thoughts weighed heavy on her mind, most importantly those regarding this strange, new world in which she existed, and the erratic coping mechanism that fluttered undecided between her recent brotherly trauma and becoming a _vampire_. More awfully, Cullen family drama: especially as she and Edward were always at each other's throats (no pun intended), trying to one-up each other, gain upper hands...puerile games.

She sighed, tugging on the collar of her gray t-shirt. She reached into the pocket of her blue, plaid boxer shorts and withdrew the flat, circular St. Jude's medallion, running a thumb over the engraved surface, wondering if the patron saint of lost causes actually existed, and, if he did, if he was thinking the same ugly things about Sleep as she was.

She rolled over, stared at the ceiling. In the dark blue shadows of the night, moonlight caressed the plaster.

Eisley had had enough. Grumbling, she resolved to use her power of persuasion to get out of bed once and for all! (Well, at least until 24 hours later, when she would undoubtedly be between its sheets again.)

"Carlisle," she whined softly, knowing he was listening.

A few seconds later, the door creaked open, pale white light spilling in from the hallway, framing his silhouette.

"Yes, Eisley?" he replied for the umpteenth time that night.

"Can't sleep," she muttered sheepishly.

He exhaled tolerantly, sitting down on the edge of the bed. Eisley felt more groggy already: his presence was soothing to her, a child recently lost, and recently found.

"Well, have you really tried?" He whispered, grinning ever-so-slightly.

She nodded quickly, dishonestly.

"Eisley," he chuckled, "I ought to put you over my knee for that."

Eisley swallowed. "Fine, I haven't tried. Why do I have to sleep _anyway_?" she whined, sitting up.

"You know perfectly well why," he admonished patiently. "We're aiming for Alert, not Zombie."

"Is there really much difference between Vampire and Zombie?" she complained gratuitously. "I mean, they're both creepy, got that whole I'm-not-alive-but-I'm-not-dead-either thing going on, an-"

The words caught in her mouth as Carlisle placed a hand over it. "Eisley," he raised an eyebrow. "You keep it up and I'll put you to sleep myself. A shot of anesthetic usually does it, even for vampires."

She deflated, scrubbing her face with the back of her arm. He wasn't making empty threats.

"But-"

"It's either that or I really will put you over my knee."

"I'm really not tired," she protested feebly.

"Yes, you are."

"No, I'm not."

Carlisle scowled, but had an idea about why she was being such a pill, and a way to help her get to sleep: a technique he'd used with all of his 'children' more than once when they needed calming down.

"Eisley, you have to sleep," he consoled, pulling back the covers so she could crawl in.

"I figured," she coughed.

Carlisle smiled tenderly. "Want me to stay with you until you get there?"

She ducked away, flushing, fighting with the word 'yes.' She didn't want to look like a baby.

"You know, Eisley," he started before she could die with shame, "Bella spent the night here once, when she was human. She had some trouble sleeping, being in a new place with some new people that didn't know her very well. I helped her get to sleep."

Eisley seemed interested. "How?"

"I sat with her, just talked to her about random things, unimportant things, until she finally caved to exhaustion. So if you're worried about looking like you can't handle yourself, remember that there are people a lot older than you who need assistance sometimes, too."

"Not just Bella?" she implored.

"Not just Bella," he replied.

Eisley smiled briefly, a grin Carlisle returned before standing up and nudging her to the other side of the bed so he could sidle in and pull his legs up, resting his socked feet on the soft covers.

"Roll over," he whispered, pleased that she did so without complaining, snuggling down into the sheets, close to his side, and hugged her pillow under her head. Carlisle rubbed her back soothingly, running his strong - but (mostly) always gentle – hand down the heather gray shirt in relaxing circles. Eisley flexed her shoulders obviously, and relaxed as they were kneaded free of knots.

"Carlisle?" she whispered, looking up with those malleable green eyes.

"Hmmm?" He breathed.

"Thanks for staying."

"Anytime," he replied, mussing her soft brown locks.

Eisley smiled and closed her eyes.

"Carlisle?"

"Hmmm?"

"Sorry."

"Don't worry about it."

"Okay. Carlisle?"

"Yes, Eisley?"

"Did you ever do this for Edward?" she snickered at the thought of big-talking _Edward_ needing a little back rub.

"Good _night_, Eisley." Carlisle replied firmly.

She withdrew once more into his soothing manipulation of the muscles in her back.

"Good night, Carlisle."


End file.
